Her breast is fit for pearls,
But I was not a "Diver"-
Her brow is fit for thrones
But I have not a crest.
Her heart is fit for home-
I-a Sparrow-build there
Sweet of twigs and twine
My perennial nest.
by Robert BlyA blind horse stands among cherry trees.
And bones shine from cool earth.
The heart leaps
Almost up to the sky! But laments
And filaments pull us back into the dark.
Night takes us. But
A paw
Comes ...